


Bright Raspberry Moon #1

by voleuse



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-14
Updated: 2008-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>A thousand engines idled in molasses-sticky Virginia heat</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Raspberry Moon #1

**Author's Note:**

> Set after 4.13. Title and summary adapted from Marisa de los Santos's _Because I Love You_.

The Doctor changed his name every week. "There are a billion trillion names in the world," he told her, fingers twiddling in the air to illustrate.

"And you're trying them all on for size," Rose finished.

He grinned at her. "Exactly!" He spun in his chair, tugging at the now-worn lapels of his jacket. "After all, they can't very well put 'Doctor' on my paychecks."

"What?" She leaned against his computer console and smirked. "You don't like being a kept man, then?"

He thumped his feet against the floor, the soles of his trainers squeaking.

He didn't answer, and she didn't push.

*

 

He tromped into the workroom laden with seventeen manila folders and a gadget she was sure she had left in the "Unidentified and Dangerous" storeroom last week.

"Doctor," she began, and he held up his hand.

"Rose, please," he said.

"I am not calling you Brent," she declared once again.

"Have it your way." He sighed and slid the folders onto her table, catching the gadget before it clattered to the floor. "Pete's right, you know."

"Most of the time," she replied. She flipped open the top folder, then turned her head to stare at the gadget. "Jellified isn't a word, is it?"

"Well, not in English." He hopped onto the table and drummed his fingers against her computer. "Why don't you use your office? It has proper chairs and isn't so, you know," he waved an arm at the high ceilings of the workroom, "empty."

"Don't know." Rose typed a few commands in, then shuffled the folders into order. "Maybe it's the carpet."

He watched her type for a while, and she kept typing until she felt him look away.

"Did you need something else?" she asked, glancing up. His collar was twisted wrong, like he'd been flipping it up and back again.

He tilted his head, and the pterodactyl keened from the rafters. "You should take a break," he mused. "We could get chips. And curry."

"Later, maybe." She took the gadget out of his hands. "When you aren't Brent."

"Tease," he said, and he sounded so much like himself that she had to laugh.

*

 

Rose woke to the sound of someone singing to the tune of "Light Brigade" through her front door.

She swung the door open, and he broke off mid-yowl. He eyed her up and down, and she folded her arms. "It's a bathrobe," she said.

"So I see," he responded. "A very purple one."

"And it's not even six in the morning," she observed.

"That," he replied, "is also true. But I found a jetpack."

She blinked. "That's classified information."

"Rose, please." He rocked back on his feet, smirking.

"Right." Her eyes felt fuzzy, and she wanted pancakes. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes." He fell still and looked at her, all solemnity. "This week, it's Theodore."

Rose blinked. "What, like the chipmunk?"

"Right." He hung his head and laughed. "How about this: Let me in, and I'll make you waffles."

Rose considered him for a moment, then she stepped back and smiled.


End file.
